Conversations: Seasons 3-4
by wearerofthehat
Summary: The conversations will mostly be between Red and Dembe and take place at the end of each episode. Red will spend almost all the time suppressing his feelings for Dembe and repressing his true feelings for Liz (he's convinced himself that he loves her like a father), and honestly, the romance and physical attraction aren't even half of it, in either case. Crossposted from A03.
1. The Troll Farmer (No 38)

Dembe regained consciousness.

First he was aware of his physical discomfort. The ache in his cheekbone, ribs and knees on the squalid concrete floor and the ache in his shoulders from the way his wrists were bound behind his back. The second thing he was aware of was that he had company. His captor was sitting on the floor with one knee bent and the other leg stretched out in front of him. There was a white handkerchief between his arse and the concrete. He was close enough to him that Dembe's field of vision stopped at his chest. Close enough to touch.

'Good morning. You were down for longer than I expected.' His voice was at once crooning and dangerous. 'I don't think I introduced myself to you before. My name's Matias Solomon and I'll be your host for the foreseeable future.'

The veneer of hospitality only served to highlight the power he had over him. It was proprietorial and something deep inside Dembe trembled in remembered fear. He'd been here before. In squalor, lying prone on the hard floor with his hands bound behind his back. Under the power of men who thought they owned him. Thought they were entitled to use him in whatever way they wanted. Dembe craned his head off the concrete so that he could look his captor in the eyes. Solomon's own head was canted to one side, and was that lasciviousness hiding behind that mask of affable geniality, or just plain maliciousness?

Dembe told himself that he was older than he was then. Stronger too, emotionally as well as physically. Then Solomon pulled a woman's stocking out of the bag resting by his side and stood before dropping several billiard balls into it. He swung the makeshift torture device through the empty air a few times. Dembe was glad; this was a sort of pain he could deal with.

'Do you like it?' Solomon asked. 'I find that the downward momentum and the weight of the balls gives a nice, solid thwack each time. And the bruises that it leaves behind are just lovely.'

Dembe didn't reply but it seemed that Solomon didn't expect him to.

'I won't use them on you just yet. I, too, am a man of honour and I won't touch you until after the antidote has been given to your granddaughter.'

Dembe saw that Solomon was gloating. It appeared that he was so sure about his ability to cause physical pain that he didn't think twice about giving up the added fear of uncertainty. And why bother with the pretence of the antidote? They both knew he was probably bluffing and would not hesitate to use her as leverage over him again once he tired of torturing him.

'Here's how it's going to go. I'm going to hurt you, and you're going to talk eventually. Reddington isn't going to save you. Just because you'd risk your life for him does not mean that he would do the same for you.'

Dembe spat on the floor, creating a wet splash on the concrete below his chin. Solomon had no idea. Of course he would risk his life for Red but not because he was paid to. He'd given his life to Red years ago. In turn, Red had given him his soul.

Solomon was right about one thing, however. He couldn't rely on Red to save him.

Solomon had no way of reaching Red with a ransom demand even if he was inclined to, and if everything went to plan it would be three weeks before Red realised anything was wrong. They weren't due to make contact again until after Red and Liz arrived in Spain. He would have to free himself. And quickly, before Solomon got it into his head to make him choose between his daughter and granddaughter or Raymond and Elizabeth.

Solomon had just finished putting away the billiard balls and the stocking when his mobile rang. He picked it up and talked into it.

'Oh, really?' He said, chuckling. 'Well, that _is_ a stroke of luck. I know just what to do with this.'

Solomon hung up and turned back to Dembe.

'You'll never guess what's happened. Elizabeth Keen handed herself over to the Russian embassy and announced herself as a KGB sleeper agent! Now all we have to do is get one of our men to arrange her transport to Moscow and we'll be able to dispose of her just like that.'

Dembe's heart constricted.

Later, after they're reunited, Dembe will gently rib Red about the mess he'd made of his exit strategy. He'll ask him how he missed that Lyle's sister was staying with him and why he didn't give the Troll Farmer content for Liz ahead of time. Red will shrug amiably and comment on the way everything looks far clearer in hindsight. Later, they will sit companionably for a snatched moment of peace while they plan their next move on the Cabal.

But in that moment Dembe was flooded with fear on Liz's behalf, and Red's. Red might have given him his soul but his life belonged to Liz. Red's sense of purpose, his sense of self-worth – such as it was – were completely bound up in her and Dembe knew that if Liz was killed it would be practically impossible for him to cope.

It occurred to Dembe almost as an afterthought that if they both died then Solomon would have no further use for him and would likely kill him as well.

Dembe kept himself calm and still. There was nothing he could do. He would just have to hope that Red would find a way to save Liz as he always had before.


	2. Marvin Gerard (No 80)

p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"'When I look at you, that's what I see. I see my way home.'/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"Red had his head and shoulders tilted back, looking at the night sky. He could feel the warmth of Liz's attention against his cheek and his neck but he didn't return her gaze. He was afraid that if he met her eyes she'd find something to remind her of how much she resented him. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"She'd asked him how he dealt with people looking at him with fear. As if they were the same. As if he hadn't spent the early years of his career ensuring that anyone who merely heard his name would fear him. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"And if it wasn't that evening, previous experience showed that she would remember. Somewhere along the line he would do something or fail to do something that reminded her that he was the monstrous criminal who turned her life upside down./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"For now though, for now he would savour the moment. Memorise how it felt to have her look at him in wonder and affection. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"After the movement of the ship took Polaris out of his field of vision he turned back into the storage container without looking at her. He felt her come in behind him and he closed the door against the chill. He went to the selection of books in the shelf, all of which were favourites he had read many times over and would happily read again. He selected one and sat down to read it but after a while he found that he couldn't give it the attention it deserved. He put it back and selected another one, only to repeat the process a short time after that. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"All the while he could feel Liz's attention on him like an itch all the way down his spine, as if he were an object being studied. This was fitting, he supposed, for a criminal in close confines with a criminal profiler./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"'What's wrong with you tonight?'/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"Liz asked in exasperation when Red started drumming his fingers against the armrest of the chair. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"Red clasped his hands in his lap and wondered how much of the truth he should tell her. He rebelled at the idea of revealing so much of himself to her and this was one secret of his that no one could argue she had a right to know. But there was no real reason not to tell her. And he remembered the way she talked to him after he'd silenced Anton Velov. She had accused him of being incapable of caring for her; of being incapable of caring for emanyone/em. If he gave her this maybe she would remember it even after her own relationship with him swung back from affection to resentment./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"He looked at her properly for the first time since he had tilted his head back to look at the stars./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"'I miss Dembe.'/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"Oh, and how he missed him. Missed his calm presence and his gentleness and strength. The woman with him might be his way home, but he had grown accustomed to having Dembe along with him on the journey./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"'But it's only been a day since you saw him last.'/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"'Yes. And every day around this time we make a point of spending time together. Talking to each other, and I have no idea when I will see him next.'/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"'You spend practically every minute of every day with him as it is.'/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"Red shook his head./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"'During the day he is my bodyguard and driver. The one who takes my calls and watches my back. In the evening he is my confidante. A source of strength and calm. My friend.'/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"'Oh.'/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"Liz thought of all the times she told him he had no friends. No one in the world who cared for him. He had never corrected her but looking at him now there was no disbelieving it. What she'd thought of as Red's uncharacteristic behaviour spoke of the absence of calm and strength Dembe's presence provided. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"And they made time to talk to each other every day, did they?/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"Liz couldn't help but compare that to her own relationship with Tom. Even when she'd thought that they were no different to any other married couple, when had she ever really made time to simply talk to Tom? More often than not she would talk about carving out some time for them, then arrive home late from work to find him either angry or absent./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"Red picked up on the grim nature of her thoughts and sought to distract her from it. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"'The last time Dembe and I were separated indefinitely he was fighting in South Sudan. After he graduated university he wanted to come back and work for me straight away. I told him no. That he needed to spend at least two years living his own life before he decided to live in mine. I had some idea that he might spend time with his daughter, maybe become a teacher.'/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"He broke off laughing. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"'You cannot imagine my dismay when he told me he was going to fight in some war.'/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"He had thought at first that it was some act of petty rebellion: emYou don/ememspan style="font-family: Helvetica;"'/spant want me to endanger my life for you? Well just watch me as I go find this completely unrelated cause to die for instead. /emThey'd fought bitterly about it. Eventually Dembe had made it clear to him that this was a cause he actually believed in, and that after telling him to go off and live his own life Red didn't really have any say in what he chose to do with it. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"It had been horrible./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"Their relationship was still evolving, he hadn't yet come to entirely see him as an adult or rely on him as heavily as he did. Even then he had hated the idea of him embroiled in the violence of the Sudanese region, that he might get shot, or blown apart at any moment. When Dembe returned Red swore to himself that he would never send him away again./p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"Now every minute, every second took them further from him and Red couldn't shake the notion that he was heading in entirely the wrong direction. He resolved to seize the first chance he had to turn back and take the fight to the Cabal on his own terms. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 24px;"And Dembe would fight with them./p 


End file.
